


Even When I Lose I'm Winning

by ChocolateCapCookie



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Tony Stark, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kid Fic, Kid Peter Parker, Kid Wanda Maximoff, Living Together, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Superfamily, This is just pure fluff idk, background James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22279156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCapCookie/pseuds/ChocolateCapCookie
Summary: After almost an hour of nerve-wracking anticipation, finally, finally, the waiter placed their dessert on the table, a silent signal to Steve. The waiter winked quickly at Steve before he left, a sly smirk on his face. A group of string musicians popped up from behind him, perfectly timed. Tony, who had just been about to dig into the delectable-looking French Cotillion chocolate cake, looked around him in confusion.Proposals are already hard enough, but they get even worse when your 7-year-old son is a complete idiot.(Steve still loves him, though)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 329
Collections: Superfamily





	Even When I Lose I'm Winning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenE/gifts).



> Y'all don't know how hard it is to write a story when half the buttons on your keyboard don't work I swear I need a sugar daddy (if anyone's taking applications wink wink). 
> 
> This is for the amazing QueenE because can you believe you were the first real person I've spoken to in weeks? Thank you, for that, and all the support for all my stories so far. Ily!
> 
> i hope you guys like it!

Steve was having a very good dream when he was rudely interrupted by the fire alarm.

Half awake, he realized it wasn’t the fire alarm, just something similarly annoying. Groaning, he reached down the bed to pull his 7-year-old up in bed with him.

“Pete,” he said, still groggy. “What have we told you about coming inside Daddy and Papa’s room before 8 on Sundays?”

“But it’s 8:01,” grinned Peter. “I waited outside for a  _ loong, loong  _ time but I didn’t come in ‘cause you said I can’t before 8 but now it’s after 8 so I can!”

A small giggle exploded from the other side of the bed. Steve rolled his eyes as Peter jumped over his body to get to his daddy.

“Good morning, daddy,” he chirped, happily lying down in Tony’s arms. Tony cracked his eyes open, knowing it was useless to feign sleep anymore.

“In my defense, that kiddie logic was pretty funny,” he argued, noticing Steve’s unimpressed stare. “And he’s gaming the system! We need to _ encourage  _ him to think out of the box like that!”

“You’re gonna put me in a box?” asked Peter curiously. “But I was a good boy, I waited ‘til it was okay to come in. It was  _ sooo  _ boring, daddy, but I waited and waited and waited, please don’t put me in a box, I was a good boy, I promise!”

Steve had to laugh at that. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he turned to face his son. “How about you be an  _ even gooder _ boy and go play with your toys ‘til daddy and I wake up? We’ll be down in ten minutes, tops.”

“I already played with all my toys,” replied Peter.

“Well, then, go read something.”

“Fine,” huffed Peter, swinging his short legs down and jumping to the floor. “And papa, the word is  _ better. _ ” He slammed the door dramatically behind him as he left, making Tony break into another fit of giggles. Steve sighed.

“He definitely gets that from you,” he said dryly, watching his boyfriend’s body shake uncontrollably with laughter. “Thanks.”

“You have to give him some credit, though, he’s pretty smart,” said Tony, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips before walking into their en-suite.

“I’ll give him some credit when he’s learned not to wake me up this early on a Sunday,” yawned Steve, rolling over onto a more comfortable position. It didn’t work, he was too alert to go back to sleep. Sighing, he followed Tony and pushed himself off the bed, knowing there was a very hyperactive 7-year-old waiting for him downstairs.

  
  
  


“I already ate breakfast, Papa,” Peter informed him primly. “I couldn’t wait for you and daddy so I ate some of your special cereal.” Steve groaned. The high-fiber, high-carbon cereal he usually ate was quite expensive, and pretty hard to find. Of  _ course  _ he was stupid enough to keep it within Peter’s reach.

“That’s my smart boy,” said Tony quickly, noticing Steve’s frown. “I’m very proud of you, baby, you didn’t wait for us and you didn’t make a mess. But next time,  _ ask  _ before you eat Papa’s cereal okay?” He knelt down beside the boy and whispered conspiratorially into his ear. “Papa doesn’t like to share.”

Peter giggled at that, but turned to face Steve with a small frown. “I’m sorry, Papa,” he said, nervously fiddling with his wrists. “I won’t take your cereal again.”

Steve smiled, his heart melting. It was at times like this that he understood the wonder of being a parent. “It’s okay, Pete,” he said reassuringly, gently ruffling Peter’s messy hair. “I never told you not to eat it, so you didn't do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t like it anyway,” said Peter, scrunching up his nose. “It didn’t have any chocolate in it.” Tony laughed and poured out two cups of coffee.

“That’s why Papa eats it, bud.”

“Can I watch TV?” asked Peter, losing interest in the conversation. Steve and Tony looked at each other.

“Only half an hour, Pete.”

Peter ran out happily, leaving Steve, Tony and two warm cups of coffee in the kitchen behind him. Tony rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, Steve’s arm instinctively going around his waist.

“You’re so good with him, it scares me,” said Tony with his eyes closed. “Do we have any plans for today?” Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s just you, me and Pete,” he promised.

  
  
  


And wasn’t that the perfect way to spend a weekend, mused Steve later that night as he gave Peter a bath. They'd had a nice lazy day at home, both men finally being able to spend some real quality time with their son. Tony had played several board games through the morning while Steve cooked, and then they’d built a pillow fort (Steve and Peter’s idea), right in the middle of their living room. Peter had a nap inside the fort, exhausted from all the ‘work’ he’d done, giving the couple enough time for a nice, long make-out session on the couch. They’d ordered pizza for dinner, all three of them curled up on the couch and watching the  _ Home Alone  _ DVD _.  _ They weren’t normally this indulgent, but Steve figured it would be alright for one night, and who was Tony to argue with two pairs of puppy-dog eyes?

That night, both Steve and Tony tucked Peter into bed when normally only one of them would do it. They read him two bedtime stories instead of one, and Steve made sure to hug Peter harder than usual and give him an extra kiss as they said goodnight. He motioned for Tony to leave, needing a few seconds with his boy.

“Pete?” he said quietly, but firm enough for the sleepy 7-year-old to understand. “You remember who you have to come home with after school tomorrow?”

“Yeah, daddy said Uncle Buck ‘n Aunty Nat’ll come pick me up,” said Peter sleepily.

“Right. And you get to go home with them and play with Wanda and little James all day long, okay? Daddy and I will come pick you up at night.”

“Okay, Papa,” yawned Peter. “Is it daddy’s birthday tomorrow?”

Steve had to smile at that. Their son was too smart for his own good. “No, it's not daddy’s birthday,” he started carefully, unsure how much he should tell Peter, “I’m just going to do something very nice for him tomorrow, and he’ll be very happy.”

“Okay, papa.”

“G’night, bud. I love you.”

“Love y’too, Papa.”

Pressing one last kiss to Peter’s curls, Steve walked quietly out of his room. He bit his lip nervously. This might be his last night with Peter. If tomorrow went wrong, he’d never be able to see his boy again. Hopefully, everything would go to plan...

Steve walked downstairs to put away the leftover pizza from dinner. Tony was cleaning up the remnants of the pillow fort and smiled at Steve when he walked in.

“What was with you?” he asked, fluffing a couple of couch cushions up. “You were being really clingy with Peter today, not that he doesn’t appreciate it, but it’s a little out of nowhere.”

“Is it bad that I really love my son?” asked Steve with a smile. He pulled Tony into a kiss, deep and slow, and the couple fell together onto the just-fluffed couch. Steve pondered the merits of moving this upstairs for about half a second, until Tony nibbled at his jaw and made all reasonable thoughts fly out of his head. With a moan, he reached down to pull Tony’s shirt over his head, quickly pulling his own shirt off as well before Tony’s lips resumed sucking on his neck.

“Thank you,” said Tony suddenly, pulling away from the crook of Steve’s neck to look him directly in the eye. He ran a finger across Steve’s chest, making Steve shiver at the sensation.

“For what?” he asked, confused and a little dazed from the loss of contact.

“Peter,” said Tony, which didn’t really help clear things up. Noticing his questioning glance, Tony continued. “It’s...you love him like he’s your own son, even though he’s not. You don’t treat him differently, or treat  _ me  _ any differently because I am... _ was... _ a single parent. You’re just a great guy Steve, and I am so grateful I have you in my life.”

Steve kissed Tony, soft and sweet this time. “Peter doesn’t have to be my biological son for me to love him, Tony,” he said gently. “I love him because he’s the sweetest, kindest, most intelligent boy I’ve ever met, and the fact that he loves me enough that he’s forgotten all about his mother, is enough for me. Plus, I love you, and you two are kind of a package deal.”

Tony laughed and raked a hand through Steve’s hair. “I love you too.” They stared adoringly into each other’s eyes for a moment before Tony spoke again.

“Is there a reason you’ve blocked the whole day off tomorrow as ‘date day’? Not that I’m complaining, but it  _ is  _ a whole day of work I’m missing.”

“No reason,” said Steve, flicking Tony’s nipple with his tongue, hoping to distract him. It worked, and neither of them said another word to each other through the night.

  
  
  


“Babe, we need to wake Peter up or he’s going to be late for school,” said Tony sleepily from under the sheets. Steve groaned at the idea of moving away from their warm bed, but this was Tony’s day. Sighing, he kissed Tony’s cheek.

“Go back to sleep, okay? I’ll get Peter dressed and drop him off.” Tony just mumbled an unintelligible noise that was probably meant to be an ‘okay’ before closing his eyes and falling asleep almost instantly.

They had slept a bit later than usual, which meant Steve had to hurry through the motions of getting Peter dressed and ready for school. Luckily, the boy always woke up easily, and Steve hurriedly peeled and sliced an apple and set out a yoghurt cup while Peter washed up and got dressed. Steve gave him a quick once-over when he came down, and yeah, he looked presentable enough.

“You gotta eat up quick, okay buddy? We’re running a little late today.”

Peter nodded and quickly ate up the yogurt cup and half his apple slices. Normally, Steve would have gotten him to finish the rest, but he just didn’t have the time or the energy today.

Steve was making PB&J sandwiches and supervising Peter washing his hands at the same time when Peter gasped in shock. Steve immediately turned to face him, worried that he’d spilled water down his freshly-ironed clothes, but it wasn’t that.

“Papa, I forgot to take something for show-and-tell today!” Steve groaned in annoyance.

“Peter, how many times have we told you not to tell us this stuff at the last moment?” he scolded. “Always tell us  _ at least  _ the night before if you need anything for school.” Peter looked at his feet, ashamed.

“I’m sorry, Papa.”

Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead. “What do you need to take?” Maybe they could scrounge up something from around the house, or maybe he could buy something and drop it off at Peter’s school later.

“Mrs. Hill said we should bring anything we find outside,” said Peter frowning. “MJ said she’s gonna bring her favourite rock, and Mrs. Hill said we can all bring rocks if we wanted to as long as we can explain them.” Steve sighed in relief. Here was something he could do.

“Okay, Pete, listen to me,” he said, kneeling down so he was at Peter’s height. “I have a drawer full of just rocks in mine and daddy’s room that I collected during the war. You can go into our room and take one  _ quietly,  _ without waking daddy, and then you’ll have a nice pretty rock that you can tell your friends came all the way from Afghanistan, okay?” Peter nodded and ran upstairs, smiling at the idea of being allowed into his parents’ room before 8.

Steve quickly turned his focus to the unfinished sandwiches in front of him. He quickly checked Peter’s bag to make sure everything was in it and he hadn’t left out any books, and placed it near the front door with Peter’s freshly polished shoes. He went back to the kitchen and hurriedly sped through making and wrapping up the sandwiches. Peter reappeared at the kitchen door, beaming like he’d found the sun.

“Papa, papa, I found this really beautiful rock at the  _ very back  _ of your drawer. It’s so pretty and white and it has a little ring on it, MJ’s gonna be so jealous of me. And I have a great story to tell with it too,” he finished proudly.

“That’s great, bud,” said Steve, a little distracted as he hunted up and down the kitchen for a brown paper bag. Surely they hadn’t already run out? “Did you put it safely in your bag? And did you put your shoes on?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Ah hah!” Steve located the stash of bags just as the sound of Bucky’s car floated into the kitchen. Steve quickly stuffed the sandwiches into the bag and pressed it into Peter’s hand.

“Hurry up, baby, Uncle Bucky’s waiting.” he said, hastily setting Peter’s bag on his small shoulders and giving him one last parental scan to make sure nothing was wrong. He held Peter’s hand firmly and walked him to Bucky’s car. He strapped Peter in the back next to Wanda, and the pair immediately started talking about some kids’ show or another. Steve and Bucky rolled their eyes in sync, watching their children with fondness.

“Peter’s still coming over after school, right?” asked Bucky. Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair nervously. Bucky smirked.

“It’ll go fine, punk,” he said, his voice teasing yet reassuring. “Tony’s gonna say yes, there’s no way he’ll say no to you.”

“And what if he does?” retorted Steve, but both men could hear the undercurrent of fear in his words. Bucky shook his head.

“We’re runnin’ pretty late, so I’m not gonna to stop to try ‘n talk you out of this,” he said. “But Peter’s always welcome to spend the night, whether you guys are celebrating or tryin’ to make up.”

“Thanks, Buck,” said Steve with a sigh. “I’ll let you know later tonight.” He pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “Be a good boy for Uncle Bucky and Aunty Nat, okay, baby?”

“I will, papa. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” said Steve, and Bucky smirked.

“Good luck, punk!” he called before driving away, and Steve had to smile, shaking his head at that. He walked back to the house slowly, trying to clear his mind. It was time to get The Plan started.

  
  
  


Steve peeked quietly into his room, satisfied when he saw Tony still happily asleep and snoring. Quickly clearing up the mess Peter had left around the house, Steve whipped up a tray of Tony’s favourite breakfast foods and an extra-large mug of coffee and set them on a small tray. As a final touch, he placed a fake rose from a nearby houseplant on the tray, and carried it upstairs to Tony.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he said cheerily, pulling open the curtains to let some of the pure morning light into the room. Tony frowned sleepily, but brightened up when he saw the tray Steve had so lovingly prepared for him.

“Breakfast in bed!” he said with childlike excitement. Steve smiled and leaned over to kiss kim softly.

“Are you sure I didn’t miss an anniversary?” asted Tony suspiciously, digging into the plate of bacon and eggs with vigour. Steve shook his head with amusement.

“Is it so hard for you to believe that I just want to do something nice for you?” he said, pressing a soft kiss to Tony’s cheek. Tony stopped eating and gave Steve a look so full of adoration and love that Steve had to stop himself from stripping naked and going for round two right then and there.

“Thank you,” said Tony softly, ignoring his food in favour of kissing Steve. Steve smiled into the kiss, but refused to get too into it. He had  _ plans.  _ Regretfully, he pulled away, trying not to be coerced by Tony’s fake pout.

“Eat up before it gets cold, Tony,” he commanded teasingly.

“Why? You have plans for the rest of the day?” asked Tony, stuffing his mouth again. Steve bit his lip, unsure what to say in answer.

“Yes,” he said finally. “And no, you don’t get to ask me what they are, mister. That would kind of ruin the concept of a surprise.”

Tony shrugged, like he hadn’t really expected an answer, and bolted down his remaining breakfast with superhuman speed. Pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s lips, he stripped his clothes off hastily and and ran into the shower.

“Are you practising to be the Flash or something?” called Steve through the bathroom door, amused.

“Just in a hurry to spend the day with you, my love,” Tony called back. Chuckling, Steve left Tony alone and ran to their room to take advantage of this unexpected moment of privacy.

He got dressed quickly, wearing the outfit he’d saved for today. He stared at himself in the floor-length mirror, pleased at how he looked. The silky green shirt he wore was formal but comfortable, and went well with his tight, black, almost-skinny jeans. He ran a critical eye over himself, and, satisfied, quickly fixed his hair. He wasn’t usually the kind of guy who cared too much about his appearance, and this extra hands-on look was way outside of his comfort zone of plain white t-shirts and hoodies, but today was special. He had to look good.

Of course, he still had one last thing to do before Tony could come back. Unable to stop smiling shyly, even though no one was around, Steve reached all the way to the back of his underwear drawer - a rather clich é place to hide things, but it was the only place that Tony was guaranteed to not accidentally open and look inside of - and pulled out a small, velvet box, stuffing it inside his pocket.

  
  
  


“Remember this park?”

Tony laughed. “Steve, we brought Peter here just last month. I know I’m getting old, but I’m not forgetting stuff that fast. Besides-” he slipped a hand into Steve’s and Steve grinned, ignoring the stares they were getting, “-isn’t this where we first met?”

“My point exactly,” smiled Steve, accepting Tony’s quick kiss to his nose. It was funny because Tony had to lean up to the very tip of his toes to reach Steve’s nose, and even then he couldn’t reach it until Steve took pity on him and leaned slightly down. Steve always took pity on him.

“It’s still the best day of my life,” mumbled Tony, his breath tickling Steve’s nose and making him giggle. “Probably the best day of Peter’s life too.”

“How old was he then?” asked Steve reminiscently. “Maybe two?”

“One and a half-ish,” replied Tony as they walked up to the large lake in the middle of the park. “You were there for his second birthday party, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” smiled Steve. The couple stopped a few yards before the bank, focused intently at a particular clump of dirt.

“This was where he fell and you saved him, remember?” said Tony fondly. “Who knew that I’d fall then too?” He smirked. “Fall for you, I mean.”

Steve rolled his eyes, not wanting to give his boyfriend the satisfaction of that horrible joke. “I did think you were a horrible father,” he admitted. “I mean, what kind of father lets his one-year-old son, who could barely even walk then, get away from him that fast? Anyone could have picked him up and run away, he was just lucky he fell on me. The whole time I was cleaning him up, I thought his father would be one of the worst I’d see.” Steve laughed. “And then I spent one day with Peter and took back everything I ever thought about you.”

“We need to get Peter a special something,” said Tony, nuzzling into Steve’s side. “Without him, we’d never have got together.” He turned to watch the lake, and threw a few pieces of bread that Steve brought along, for the pleasure of watching the ducks squabble. He leaned his head into the crook of Steve’s neck and sighed happily.

The feel of Tony’s comforting, warm presence beside him, the beautiful scenery in front of them and the peaceful atmosphere of the park were an intoxicating combination. Steve was so full of pure, raw emotion, he almost pulled out the velvet box and proposed to Tony right then and there. It would’ve been easy enough, considering the ring was  _ right there _ in his pocket, and all he had to do was reach in and pull it out. He held back though, knowing this wasn’t the right time. Tony loved extravagance and big romantic gestures, and Steve would never feel content if his proposal was in a quiet park corner with only the trees and ducks to witness it, and only the quiet waves and slow breeze as his background music. Tony would love it, of course, because his sweet, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing Tony would love anything Steve did, but Steve could never love himself if he didn’t live up to Tony’s daydream of a perfect proposal.

He pushed away the urge to pull the ring out of his jeans, and instead wrapped an arm around his boyfriend and pulled him flush to his body. They watched the lake together, both men happy, content and in love.

  
  
  


Of course, they couldn’t sit there forever. Steve did have plans after all, and he explained as much to Tony as he pulled him to his feet.

“I made reservations at a place that’s going to be really hard to get to if we miss them,” he said gently, as Tony grumbled about having to move from his comfortable position. He fixed Steve with a skeptical stare.

“Lunchtime reservations are not a thing,” he said suspiciously, not mollified by Steve’s laughter at that sentence.

“They very much are a thing, Tony,” said Steve, straightening himself out. “Maybe if you woke up before noon someday, you’ll learn about all the mysterious stuff that happens in the mornings. Like making lunchtime reservations.”

“Fine, I trust you,” said Tony with a dramatic sigh. “But I definitely will say ‘I told you so’ if we get to this place and they turn out to not have any tables for us.”

“Don’t worry,” said Steve confidently. “They will.” He’d taken the utmost care to make sure everything was properly organized. He’d called the restaurant’s manager directly, almost a month ago, and directed everything so it would be perfect today. He’d even gone over yesterday, just to check up. Still, he couldn’t help the small tingle of fear that ran through him. It was the best-made plans that went awry, after all, and anything that went wrong could ruin his proposal. Steve bit his lip anxiously, trying not to let Tony notice.

However, it turned out that he’d worried for nothing. As Steve pulled up to the front of the restaurant, a smartly-dressed waiter escorted them smoothly to their table. Steve had made sure to book the best table in the restaurant; it was on a fancy raised platform, but still relatively private.

Tony looked around in excitement as the couple were seated. “I...can’t believe it,” he said incredulously when the waiters left to give them some privacy. “Our first date...Steve...this is... _ fuck. _ ” Steve laughed softly, leaning forward to wipe the singular tear that had leaked out of Tony’s eye off his cheek.

“D’you like it?” he asked, almost shyly. He’d spent so much time and money on organizing this, if Tony didn’t like it, he’d be almost literally heartbroken. Tony grabbed Steve’s hand and pressed a long, lingering kiss to his knuckles.

“I love it,” Tony whispered. “Thank you.”

Steve smiled. “I figured you deserved a good meal without a hyperactive seven-year-old butting his head into the conversation every two minutes.”

Tony laughed at that. “I really do,” he admitted, “And you do too.” Steve watched Tony look around him, taking in the surroundings, and he had to smile. He loved this man so much.

“I can’t believe how far you’ve come, Steve,” said Tony softly, rubbing thumb over Steve’s knuckles. “Six years ago, you could barely even talk to Peter without stuttering and tripping over your words. You’d certainly never eat at a place like this.” Tony waved his hand vaguely to indicate the opulence of the place. “I...it’s really nice seeing how much you’ve grown.”

Steve blushed, but he couldn’t really say anything. Tony was right. Being with him and Peter had brought Steve out of his shy, anxious shell, helped him be more confident and grab life by the horns. More than anything, Peter and Tony had simply made him  _ happy,  _ giving him a reason to live and work and push his hardest, and just for that he’d always be grateful to them.

Tony leaned over the table to kiss Steve, seemingly uncaring of the vase with a single rose in the middle of the table, or the tiny candles burning merrily around it. Steve returned the kiss happily, a sweet, short thing that conveyed all his feelings to Tony without either of them having to say a single word.

The waiter brought out the entrees, which Steve had pre-ordered. They had a perfectly lovely time, sharing food and talking constantly like this was only their first date. They hadn’t had any proper alone time for a long while, and this would have been a perfect date if half of Steve’s brain hadn’t been constantly sweating in nervousness and anticipation. Every time he reached over the table to feed Tony a mouthful of his food, he could feel the velvet box jostle against his thigh, shooting a combined spurt of nervousness and excitement up his spine each time.

After almost an hour of nerve-wracking anticipation, finally _ , finally,  _ the waiter placed their dessert on the table, a silent signal to Steve. The waiter winked quickly at Steve before he left, a sly smirk on his face. A group of string musicians popped up from behind him, perfectly timed. Tony, who had just been about to dig into the delectable-looking French Cotillion chocolate cake, looked around him in confusion.

“Steve?” he asked quietly, setting his fork down. Steve could see that Tony was starting to understand what was happening and quickly grabbed both of Tony’s hand to cup them in his own.

“Tony,” he started desperately. Fuck. He’d planned  _ every  _ moment of this proposal down to the minutest detail, and had somehow forgotten to work on the most important part: actually  _ asking  _ Tony the question. “I love you,” he blurted out. Tony just looked at him in confusion.

“I know I say that a lot,” clarified Steve nervously. “But that’s because I do, Tony. I love you so much that sometimes I think it can’t be physically possible to love one person as much as I do. And then I see you and fall in love all over again.” Tony made a noise as if to interrupt Steve, but Steve cut him off.

“Every day I spend with you is a new best day of my life. You’re everything to me, as cheesy as that sounds, because you and Peter are quite literally my family at this point. You’re the most beautiful, talented, amazing man I’ve ever had the pleasure to be with, and baby, I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.” Steve pulled the warm velvet box out of his pocket, like he’d been dreaming of doing all day. He slid gracefully onto one knee, facing Tony who was standing up by now with a look of both shock and pure happiness on his face.

“Anthony Edward Stark,” said Steve, opening the box to face Tony, “Tony, sweetheart, my love, the love of my life; will you marry me?” Steve was smiling like an idiot, focused entirely on Tony, Tony’s face, Tony’s reactions; but even through his single-minded focus and the sudden tears in his eyes, he could hear the band playing a loud but gentle romantic melody; he could sense all the waitstaff and half of the customers watching them.

The couple stayed stock-still and silent for a moment. Then Tony let out a giggle through his tears. He tried to muffle it, covering his mouth with his hand, but his mirth was obvious even through the tears streaking his face.

Steve’s heart sank so low they’d probably need a submarine to find it again. He’d fucked up. Tony didn’t want to marry him. He actually thought this whole thing was  _ hilarious. _

Tony could apparently guess what he was thinking, because he stopped giggling immediately, all signs of humor leaving his eyes. “Steve, baby, no, I didn’t mean to do that,” he said quickly, looking at Steve’s distressed face. Steve looked away, hot burning tears rushing into his eyes. It was funny how he could sense the difference between these tears and the tears of happiness he’d carried only a few seconds earlier. Tony cupped his chin and pulled his head upward, forcing Steve to look him in the eye.

“Sweetheart, of course I’ll marry you,” said Tony sincerely. “I can’t believe you thought for even one second that I  _ wouldn’t  _ marry you. I’d be honoured to be your husband, Steve Rogers.” A sheepish smile spread over his face. “It was just a little funny, because well…” he waved vaguely towards the still-open ring box in Steve’s hand, “You seem to have forgotten the ring.”

“What?!” Steve swiftly turned the box towards himself, and one glance confirmed that, yes, it was quite empty. At any other time, it would have seemed funny, but at this moment,  _ nothing  _ was funny. Tony pulled Steve in for a tight hug, his way of both reassuring the man and hiding his face from the public.

“I got you a ring, Tony, I promise,” he cried softly, aware that practically the whole restaurant was eavesdropping, and even the musicians had paused their playing. “It was perfect for you, and it was in the box  _ just  _ yesterday, I saw it myself. I’m sorry, Tony, I don’t know how I lost it, I fucked up, I couldn’t give you your dream proposal…”

“Shhh, sweetheart, calm down,” soothed Tony, one hand rubbing reassuring circles on Steve’s hip as the other cupped his face. “I don’t need a ring to marry you. I’d marry you if all you have is a cardboard box and one pair of underwear.”

Steve giggled wetly and rested his head in Tony’s hands. “I’m so sorry, Tony,” he said again, and Tony rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything in reply, his phone vibrated in his back pocket.

“Answer it,” said Steve defeatedly, sitting back down in his chair and resting his head in his hands. “If it got through your silent mode, it’s probably important.”

Steve watched as Tony quickly pulled out his phone and answered it, barely even looking at the number. There was probably an incident at work that needed his handling. Steve sighed and hid his head in his hands, trying not to attract any more attention from the other patrons at the restaurant. A gentle sheet of conversation had started up again, but Steve knew he and Tony were still being silently scrutinized.

Tony cut the call and stuffed his phone in his pocket. Steve was impressed; he’d never known Tony to deal with a work emergency that fast, or that calmly. He expected Tony to sit down, to pick up where they left off. Instead, Tony reached a hand out to help Steve stand up, and rubbed his hand wearily over his eyes.

“I think I know where our ring is.”

  
  
  


“So basically, this is all your fault?” laughed Tony as they drove as fast as possible down the familiar road. Steve blushed and kept his eyes on the road, gripping the wheel tighter than usual.

“In my defense, I was distracted,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “And I figured Peter would have the brain-power to tell the difference between a rock from Afghanistan and his  _ father’s engagement ring.” _

‘I’m sorry, this just gets funnier the more we talk about it,” laughed Tony as Steve parked in front of the well-known red brick building. Steve scoffed in annoyance. “All I’m saying is, it must’ve been one hell of a rock if Peter actually thought it was interesting enough for show and tell.” Ignoring Tony’s last remark, Steve walked silently inside with his boyfriend following him (was Tony still his boyfriend or was he his fiance now? Did it count if there was no ring?).

“Mr. Stark,” greeted Maria Hill as Steve and Tony walked through the heavy, panelled door into Principal Fury’s office. She nodded her head in acknowledgement to Steve, who was used to this. Despite the fact that he’d been picking Peter up from school practically every day since the boy had started there, none of the staff were comfortable with him since he wasn’t technically listed as Peter’s parent or guardian in their files.

“Mr. Stark,” boomed Principal Fury from behind his dark oak table. Steve hadn’t been in school for around ten years, and he was  _ still  _ freaked out by Principal Fury. He wasn’t even sure what the guy’s first name was.

“I understand you and your son are...financially comfortable,” said Fury, not-so-subtly ignoring Steve. “But that is not an excuse to let him bring expensive jewellery to school, and especially not with the express purpose of showing it off to the other children. This is not a culture we wish to cultivate in our school, Mr. Stark.”

“I understand,” said Tony, but Steve cut in for him.

“This was really my fault, Mr. Fury,” he said, meekly. Fury glared at him from his throne.

“ _ Director  _ Fury, Mr. Rogers,” interrupted Fury, glaring at Steve out of his one good eye.

“Director,” amended Steve. He mentally wondered what level of military Fury had to be at to get such an honorific. And why he’d chosen to be the principal of a small primary school instead. “Peter asked me for a rock to bring to school, and I let him pick one without supervising him. The ring was kept in the open because I was planning to propose to my boyfriend-” everyone looked at Tony, who blushed, “-today, and Peter, well…” he trailed off, shrugging.

“If it’s any consolation,” snarked Tony, “Steve wasn’t all that happy after he planned an elaborate proposal, gave me a sweet, heartfelt speech, and got down on one knee...and then learned that he didn’t have a ring.” Maria Hill laughed at that, although she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, needing to keep her professional image. Steve could still see her shaking with repressed giggles, and maybe he was dreaming, but he thought he saw a glint of amusement in Principal-Director Fury’s eye as well.

“As it was an accident, we can excuse it this one time,” said Fury stiffly. “But please ensure your son does not make ‘accidents’ of this sort too often or I will have to consider more serious options, Mr. Stark.” He paused. “Or is it Mr. Rogers now?”

“Congratulations on the engagement, Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers,” said Maria Hill. She held her hand out to Steve. “Perhaps you want to officially complete the proposal?” Steve gingerly picked the ring out of her hand, clutching it tightly in his own. To his own surprise, he felt himself tearing up again, and tried his best to will the tears away. This stupid ring had some sort of enhancer on his emotions.

“We’ll do that somewhere more private, Ms. Hill, but thank you,” said Tony smoothly. “Before Steve and I leave, I want to let you know that Peter will be leaving with Wanda and her father today. Also, I would like to add Steve’s details as Peter’s other parent.”

  
  
  


Steve and Tony broke the news to Peter that night after Bucky brought him home. Peter only had one very important question: “Will I get to be the flower boy?”

Bucky had walked into their home like he owned it, and had pulled Steve and Tony into a thick group hug.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want Peter to stay overnight,” he said with a smirk. “As I recall, there's only one way to celebrate getting engaged, and it’s best if it goes on for a long time.”

“We got it out of our systems,” said Tony smoothly as Steve blushed. “There’s a reason my genius fiance decided to propose in the middle of the day; so we had more time to celebrate.”

“You celebrated, Daddy? Like a party? With cake? I want cake.”

“Knowing Uncle Bucky, he probably filled you with enough sugar to keep you awake for a week,” said Steve, glaring at Bucky, who had the decency to look away. “You get no cake, mister.”

“But it’s not fair, Papa! Did you keep some cake for me to eat later?”

“There’s no cake because we didn’t have a party, bud. That’s not how adults celebrate,” interjected Tony. Peter looked at him curiously.

“How did you and Papa celebrate then, Daddy?”

Bucky burst out laughing as Steve and Tony floundered, trying to find an answer. Peter continued, still confused. “How do you celebrate without cake?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they used cake, Pete,” said Bucky mischievously. “Just not in their mouths.”

Steve and Tony glared at Bucky, promising several unspoken threats. Peter contemplated this for a few moments until it clicked. “Daddy and Papa made cake pops!” he cheered, running to the kitchen to hunt them down. Tony waited ‘til Peter had turned the corner, and then flipped his middle finger at Bucky.

“Language, Stark,” teased Bucky. “Especially in front of the children.”

“The ‘children’ is in the kitchen.”

“I meant this child here,” said Bucky, ruffling Steve’s hair like he was six. Steve scowled, but didn’t say anything. “Nat says to say congratulations as well, and she said to tell you, Tony, that if you don’t let her do all the wedding planning, she’s going to do unspeakable things to your privates so you can’t have kids anymore.”

“Get out of our house before you corrupt our son, Barnes,” growled Tony. Bucky laughed and gave Steve a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead before turning to leave. “And the next time I see Wanda, I’m going to tell her to ask you all the details of her first period,” called Tony to Bucky’s retreating figure. Bucky simply raised his middle finger behind him, not even bothering to turn around. Shutting the door, Steve turned to face Tony, who immediately pulled him into a kiss.

“God,” moaned Steve as his back hit the ridged surface of their front door. “I knew we should have left Peter there overnight.”

“You are insatiable, Rogers,” laughed Tony, but obediently started nipping at Steve’s neck. “Was this afternoon not enough for you?”

“No,” said Steve, but pulled away reluctantly. The urge to close his eyes and just let Tony litter his neck with hickeys was  _ so goddamn tempting,  _ but any moment now, an angry 7-year-old would run in demanding cake pops, and this wasn’t a position he wanted to be in when that happened. Ever the wonderful boyfriend, Tony just followed Steve’s movements so they were back to kissing.

“C’mon, Tony,” he said weakly, and Tony pulled away reluctantly as well.

“Fine,” he said, making his pout very clear in his voice. “I’ll stop.”

Peter walked in right then, making Steve thank the stars for the lucky timing. The boy ran into Steve’s lap, cuddling his head in his Papa’s stomach. Smiling, Steve pulled Tony into their little cuddle as well, both men wrapping an arm protectively around Peter. This was what home felt like.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally made a tumblr! Come say hi @ chocolatecapcookie!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
